REMEMBERING HANK SCHWARTZ...


From Harold Hiken...

It was with great sadness that I learned Hank Schwartz, my Assistant Director during the beginning years of Timberlane, had passed away from cancer.

Hank was a teacher and worked at a camp called Strongheart before coming to Timberlane. I totally counted on him to set up each camper in their activities, which made my job much easier. His late wife Helen was also very helpful at camp. Their sons, Perry and Harry, became counselors for us, and have always said that camp was a big part of their lives. Hank became Vice Principal at the high school where he taught, yet still stayed with me at camp. He loved to work with all types of wood and made interesting products. Eventually both Hank and Helen (who was also a teacher) retired from their schools, and built a home up north near camp. He eventually retired as our Assistant Director, but always came back to help out if we ever needed him.

For the last thirteen years Hank has helped us at Camp Agawak working with the girls in making all kinds of wood products. I always counted on Hank and he never let me down. He lived to be 84, and till the end his greatest joy was working with children.


From Jim Hiken...

To me, he was always Uncle Hank. My grandfathers died before I was old enough to really get to know them, and Hank became sort of a surrogate grandfather. When I was too young to be in a cabin, I would follow Hank around, perhaps getting in his way but always feeling like he was happy to have me there. Some of my earliest camp memories center around Hank - riding with him on that yellow tractor when he mowed the athletic fields, fishing on Lake Towanda, and that wonderful pipe tobacco smell so imprinted on my brain. He was always "old" to me, yet he seemed timeless and ageless. It wasn't until I saw him during the Agawak years that I could really see the changes. After Helen passed away, I'm sure he was ready. I'll miss Uncle Hank, but I'll always cherish those memories of a kind and warm-hearted old man with enough love to share with a little boy whose Dad was very busy.

In loving memory,
Jim Hiken ("Jimmy-boy" as he used to call me)


From Larry Grossman...

To me Hank was really kind of a consummate coach. Tough, disciplined, yet very caring and warm when you got past the crusty exterior. Totally honest, straightforward and direct in his approach. As a camper I was probably a bit intimidated by him, but in my years as a staff member there was nobody who I respected more. He also build or fixed anything and everything. There is no doubt things he built and nails he pounded are still solid and working, nearly 40 years later. And I suspect there are quite a few ex-Oak Creek football players who are also still solid and working because of Hank Schwartz. The world is a better place because he was here.


From John Melamed...

Hank really ran the infrastructure. He was straight, honest, hardworking, consistent, etc. Highly principled, Harold's right hand guy. Kind of a gruff exterior and a genuinely good guy underneath. I think it's fair to say that Camp Timberlane looks the way it does today and over the years because of Hank's hard work.


From Steve Kravit...

I was sorry to hear that Hank Schwartz passed away. As a Timber camper and staff member from 1962-1970 I remember him well. I also know (knew) Hank in his most recent incarnation as woodworking instructor at Camp Agawak, where all three of our girls go or went.

Hank was new at TImberlane my first year in '62 I think. HH (as he was known then, maybe the year before he got his first toupee) needed some real camping leadership in the form of an older father figure (remember, HH started this camp at age 29, younger than most of you are now). Hank was immediately the stoic responsible presence at camp. He came from 20+ years at Camp Tomahawk on Lake Tomahawk, which folded in 1962 or so. During the winters he was an industrial arts teacher at Oak Creek High School south of Milwaukee.

Hank had all those skills most Jewish boys don't--he was handy, had lots of actual camping and tripping experience, and was very patient and slow to anger. He never shouted, but when he spoke you listened. HH purchased the blue trailer for Hank and Helen, his wife, and they lived there for I don't know how many summers. Spam in a can, that trailer was hot on hot days. He didn't entertain much, and as a staff member you could be called to that trailer much as you might be called to the woodshed.

Hank constantly smoked a pipe and was always fiddling with the lighter and tobacco. He doubled as maintenance man and supervisor given his skills. He was always there, strategically placed looking out at the only road in (the front way anyway, but that is for another remniscence), and as a staff member it was a game to be quiet enough not to wake him, but still piss on the totem pole.

He could be a stern disciplinarian, but was humbled by his son Harry who was Timberstaff for a few years, and who was as wild as his dad was staid. Harry was (and I presume still is) a very gregarious, colorful fellow, who worked with the horses and whatever else he felt like doing.

Over the years I grew to like and appreciate Hank for his quiet demeanor and woodsy values. For the last 8 years or so, Hank in retirement has worked at Agawak teaching woodworking to the girls. If you think Timber boys were clueless in the working with carving tools, you should see the girls. In his later years, Hank mellowed. He lost his wife a few years ago, and you could see the effects of age. He never lost his patience, or his ability to fascinate camp kids with the beauty of working with their hands.

Hank's legacy is the positive, solid example he gave, and the patient time he spent, with literally thousands of boys and girls, introducing them to new experiences at camp. At Timberlane, I think Hank personally designed and built, with others, the rifle range; the back athletic field; the grass on all the fields (I recall about four years of corn row grass, strange for baseball grounders--we always attributed this to HH being parsimonious with grass seed); the trampoline pits and their expansion to four and then eight units; the bell tower, the original benches, and the TImber bowl. At least I'm pretty sure he did all of those things--what, you think HH constructed anything?

Hank brought tradition and stability to Timberlane. He led an exemplary life. He will be missed.


From Jon Heller...

When I think of Hank Schwartz, I think of THE pioneer of Timberlane, outside of Harold & Sharon. As the Hikens will concur, it takes unique vision, diligence, perseverence and a helluva lot of luck in the camping business to make dreams come true. To realize that Hank was Timberlane's first Assistant Director gives us all a sense of his longevity. His grandson, Nathan, was part of camp and that has always imparted deep down to a lot of us that this guy was not only one, who created such things as the athletic field, but was the truest believer in Timberlane, in every sense of the word. When we were introduced to each other in the late 1970s, he never asked me what my real name was. I just think he thought my real name was "Pud." I'll always remember him as one of the nicest guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I'm saddened to now realize he is no longer with us.


From Billy Fried...

Hank taught woodcarving the past 14 years here at Camp Agawak. I go back to my camper days with Hank. In his retirement he enjoyed the wram friendly enviroment of Agawak and volunteered his time to help out in any way he could. He was a sweet, kind and gentle man that gave so much without asking for anything in return. Hank will be missed and we will remember him fondly. May he rest in peace and may his spirit guide us through many more wonderful summers.


From Stu Turnansky...

I remember Hank well. He was Assistant Director in the very early days of camp, the early sixties, when camp traditions were first being formed. Hank was a calm, quiet man, but with a special twinkle in his eye and a kind word for all. I remember him watching over the first all camp barbecues making sure all went just right. He was not a large man, but a great ahtlete. He could hit the baseball anywhere on the field, and as far as he wanted. I remember on a camp overnight during a thunderstorm, Hank showing up with treats and good cheer for all. And, of course, I remember Hank riding serenely mowing the camp fields.

For those of us who had the privilege of knowing Hank we are saddened by his passing. And for all of us who have known and loved Timberlane we are grateful to Hank for his contribution to what Camp was and what it was to become.


From Terry Goldin...

To me Hank was the 'Vice Principal'; the right hand man that contributed to the camp by performing a lot of important hidden tasks that allowed the camp to run smoothly. He worked hard without asking for lots of recognition.

After reading all of the recent heartwarming memoirs from fellow alumni, I felt obligated to clarify just one point. Steve Kravit pointed out that ground balls always bounced in strange ways at Timberlane. If my memory serves me correctly, it was Hank that invented or introduced the game of 'Goofy Golf ' to Timberlane. Where he chose to locate and construct some of the holes might just explain the Timber grounders.


From Vance Liebman...

I have a lot of fond memories of Hank Schwartz. It was Hank calling me Vince that led to the nickname Vinny. I remember his efforts to keep things working in the days when the budget for repairs for the summer was under $100. During his years as AD, he always seemed to be there when we were goofing off, skipping activities, raiding other cabins or generally trying to get away with something. After his years as AD (which I think were 62-68) he had a house (see below) on Lake Tomahawk and came by camp to visit.

But the best memory of Hank that I can share is about the day that Steve Brown, Nick Bilinke and I spent with Hank on his lot on Lake Tomahawk before his house was built. Hank told us that he needed a little help the next day for what I heard as "unloading the stuff for the house" that he was having built. Actually, what he said (or what he meant) was "unloading the house". So we went from flag pole to Hank's (on a day off) and a semi pulled up. Inside the semi was the house, in pieces of cours, but nonetheless the whole house. By about three we got to the shingles (in 100 lb bundles) and I was ready to die (notwithstanding an ample supply of beer). Then came the assemblies for the roof. These were prefabricated, four of them, each weighing a few hundred pounds. They formed a triangle (for the pitched roof) with the joists attached to form the base of the triangle. They were the full width of the house and the height (at their peak) was about 6 feet. This is what I remember, Hank applied his administrative skills and careful eye to show us just where to lift so that three of us could carry them while he directed. That was the beginning, as during the rest of the summer Hank kept replacing skilled craftsmen with laborers from Camp. Steve and I did a lot of electrical wiring on the house (so its probably burned down by now) and he even had me swing a hammer a few times.

I also remember when Hank had to stop spending the summer at camp, he did it to take a promotion that required him to be back at school before camp ended. He became vice principal. He told me that his job was to be in charge of vice at the school. When he said it that way it sounded pretty good.

The last time I saw Hank was at Agawak where he was teaching well into his 80's (as others have already posted).


From Mike "Coner" Cohen...

I am very sorry to hear about the loss of our dear friend Hank. I was lucky enough to spend some quality time at H's cabin party during the reunion with the "legend" retelling stories. A really remarkable one was during the early to mid 70's...

We had a camp nurse from the Chicago area and her boyfriend came up to pay a visit. I was the Sailing instructor and they requested an X-boat outing. It was a very whitecapped day on beautiful Lake Towanda as we set out on the first-time sailing adventure for the boyfriend. I told him at least 3 times to leave his wallet in the infirmary as we would be getting very wet on this windy day. He did not listen and lost his black billfold somewhere in the lake...a major bummer for him as well as the nurse and myself. A total loss as I think he had some headache powders in the wallet with his credit cards and cash. I had to leave that next morning to take out a Porkie's trip and wished them a miracle...

When I got back to camp 3 days later the funniest thing happened. The nurse stopped me and said "Did you hear?" Hank had called camp and made page after page for the boyfriend until someone figured out who this mystery man was; who by now had left camp bummed out. It turns out that one of Hank's black labs had retrieved the billfold from the murky waters and that the wallet was intact with the exception of the powders and the canine bite marks on the outside. We had some big laughs at the reunion on this and many other Timber-encounters. I am sure Hank is still enjoying the Northwoods and probably can be seen walking from the lodge to the stables down the road if you look just right.


 

From Russ Dashow...

 

I am probably the only one you all will ever know who knew Hank in the 40's at Camp Strongheart on Big Lake Tomahawk in Woodruff. He and Walt Hine were my mentors.....I was about 10ish, and an avid photographer.....may still have a shot of him in his wartime civvies, smoking his pipe, playing baseball with us kids.

I remember he hailed from Algoma, taught at the high school there, not sure, but he left an INDELIBLE impression on me that has lasted all these years. Accidentally came upon your site, and was amazed at the life he lived after my Strongheart years. Still have the camp flag and remember the Strongheart song: Strongheart, Strongheart, hats off to thee, to our colors true we shall ever be so strong and brave united are we, with a rah,rah,rah for the red and black, rah,rahrahrah, hats off to Strongheart thee. Lots of Indian lore we learned, around council fires, etc.

 

Those were the days.... ..I.dream of fishing off the old pier before I pass on one of these years. Got my old paddle and tackle box, anyone interested?

 

 

 

To add your recollection of Hank...write us at: tushball@gmail.com

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